


Studious

by varooooom



Series: Learning Curve [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, PWP, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-18
Updated: 2012-09-18
Packaged: 2017-11-14 12:19:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/515174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/varooooom/pseuds/varooooom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When studying goes wrong. Alternatively: Arthur is a jerk and Merlin would hate him if he wasn't in love with him. Or so he says.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Studious

**Author's Note:**

> Modern AU in a school setting. There's some age difference; Merlin is 18 and Arthur is 24. Shameless, shameless porn. Hi.

Merlin is going to fail this exam.

This is a fact he is painfully aware of as he stares down at the little stack of papers, one neat staple in the corner doing a better job of holding things together than Merlin in his entirety. His hand shakes in what almost feels like stalwart _refusal_ to sign his name at the top, and even the title of the bloody thing seems to read  Congratulations On Failing Before Starting the Test, Idiot and you know, that's really not on for an _exam_ to be getting smart with him right now but _fuck_ if it isn't speaking the truth. 

And it's not even his fault, honest! He's gotten top marks all year long, he's done the work, he _knows_ the material. Should be easy as breathing, and _really_ , it isn't his fault that he's going to fail.

It's Arthur's. Completely, one-hundred percent, unreservedly Arthur's bloody fault.

All because he's got his hand on his desk.

Which shouldn't be a problem, it is _his_ desk and he can do with it what he damn well pleases, except that it is a _very big problem_ that is making itself known in the straining tightness of Merlin's trousers. They're sat in alpha-order for the exam, which has Merlin near to the end of the first row, and Arthur's desk is at the front of the room, angled perfectly to give him a view of the entire classroom. It's meant to be inviting, he once explained, so that students don't feel invisible in his scope, but Merlin's fairly certain he does it just to be a right bastard.

Because though he can see the whole room, only the first two rows or so can see him when he's sat behind it. Because he can see Merlin clearly, but Merlin can only see him from his peripheral unless he wants to blatantly look across the room to the smug arse (which he does _not_ want to do, thank you very much).

But the biggest reason, the most blatant, obvious, _cruel_ reason Arthur does it is because he's got his fucking _hand_ on his desk.

He's reading over the papers everyone turned in before sitting down for the test, one hand propping up his ridiculously, carved-from-stone-like-a-Greek-god chin with a finger over his pursed lips and - and his twice damned left hand atop the wood beside him. One finger, tapping away in what, to anyone else, seems like a perfectly innocent gesture as he keeps himself occupied with grading, but Merlin knows better.

He knows much better, because it's the very same finger that stretched him open on that very same spot just the day before.

 _No_ , no, he is _not_ going to think about that, dammit. He's got an exam (that's still mocking him, and isn't that the surest sign that Arthur wrote it, the wanker) to pass and he'll be damned if he lets himself be distracted by the strong, sun-kissed forearm exposed by the sleeve of Arthur's button up rolled to his elbow, where even the bunching of the material isn't quite enough to hide the muscle of the biceps Merlin has traced a hundred times over with his fingers and his tongue and -

\- and it hadn't even been intentional. They've been clever about keeping their relationship off of school grounds, teacher-student relationships and reputations and _blah blah blah_ , what the fuck ever. Merlin doesn't care, so long as he still gets to see Arthur before class at the same coffee shop a few roads down where they'd first met before the start of term, before Arthur realised Merlin was in one of his courses, before there was anything to stop them from flirting callously and falling far too quickly head-first into bliss, and _it wasn't intentional_.

They keep it off campus, at the cinema or poncy restaurants because Arthur's a prat and uses Merlin's insistence on being treated like an adult to the extreme, or at Arthur's flat when they've got an extended weekend and Merlin's mum's house when she wants to pry into Merlin's personal life without being at all discreet about it. They're _good_ about this, but yesterday, Merlin'd had a shit day and just wanted to stay out of the world a little bit longer. He sat on the desk, feet dangling off the edge as he watched Arthur erase the day's lecture notes, reveling in the drag of his shirt as he reached across the board and the way the setting Sun cast an orange glow to make him every bit the perfect escape Merlin needed.

Merlin sighs and closes his eyes, breathing deep. He can do this. He can ignore the arsehole's rhythmic tapping and focus on the exam. He gets through the first couple of questions before he realises Arthur's tapping sounds deeper now, heavier, and he shifts just enough to notice that the fucker's using _two_ fingers now. It takes every ounce of Merlin's willpower not to _whimper_ as his cock grows impossibly harder at the reminder of Arthur -

\- turning around to find Merlin watching him, arms stretched out behind him and a fond smile that made the older man narrow his eyes.

"What?" he asked, suspicion keeping his tone playful and teasing. Merlin simply lifted his chin in defiance.

"Nothing." He let his eyes roam from his soft golden hair to the toes of his far-too-expensive shoes, then quirked the corner of his lips. "Just thinking that those slacks do wonders for your arse. Trying to impress someone?"

Arthur hummed in false contemplation as he walked over, stopping just before Merlin's knees to glance over to the door. Locked, as it always is after hours, but Merlin checked it thrice over when he claimed the empty classroom as his sanctuary for the day. Reassured and pleased, he turned back to lean forward and brace his hand on the desk right next to Merlin's, brushing the other across Merlin's cheekbone as he spread his knees to make room for Arthur. Always a tease, he stared at Merlin's lips hungrily and came just close enough to _almost_ kiss him, only to sweep his lips across the other cheek to his ear.

"Did it work?"

Merlin shivers, and it's cold enough in the room that he can pass it off as a chill and not embarrassing arousal at the memory of Arthur imprinted on his skin. He's holding onto his graphite hard enough to shatter the damn thing (probably. maybe. he's certainly frustrated enough to at least try), but he forces himself to breathe through it and slinks lower into his seat, hoping against hope that none of his classmates have noticed the flush he can feel burning in his cheeks. 

A cursory glance tells him they couldn't care less, hard at work on a test he's damn near forgotten about, and in his checking, Merlin just _happens_ to notice Arthur's eyes flick up to him from across the room. It's a brief, fleeting moment, but Merlin doesn't think he imagines the faint smile on the teacher's lips before he looks back down to his work and _Jesus_ , adds another finger to his tapping. Merlin can practically _feel_ it -

\- Arthur's hands gripping his hips tightly and pulling him to the edge of the desk, kissing him soundly and filthily and God help him, Merlin was clinging to his shirt and keening right into his hands. He gained just enough presence of mind to give Arthur's chest a light shove, ' _My bag, front pocket of my bag_ ,' and tore off his shirt while Arthur rummaged around to find,

"You carry these around with you?" he asked as he held up a packet of lube, light blue eyes blown wide with disbelief, wonder and a lust that sent tingles right up Merlin's bare spine. At his cheeky grin, Arthur chuckled lowly, "Trying to impress someone?"

"Did it work?" Merlin asked, tugging Arthur back to him by his belt. Arthur laughed again, low and heady, and dipped down to claim Merlin's lips again while he set their supplies on the desk and started working at Merlin's jeans. It took some manoeuvering and hopping and one undignified yelp when his bare ass hit the cold wood before Merlin was finally, _finally_ naked and sprawled out across Arthur's desk, cock hard and dripping onto his belly. Arthur stopped then, still fully dressed but flushed with clear exhilaration, to just ... _look_ in a way that made Merlin squirm until Arthur trailed his fingers from Merlin's neck down his chest and just over Merlin's cock, softly, gently, reverently.

"Look at you," he breathed, shook his head, " _God_ , you're beautiful."

Merlin bites hard on his lip, pointedly staring down at the exam to scribble out more answers that may actually be in Welsh for all he knows at the moment. He can _feel_ Arthur's gaze on him, feel it running across his skin like sunlight on a warm summer day, feel it dancing around at the base of his spine and in the trembling of his thighs. There's something deeply shameful about being so painfully hard in a classroom full of his peers, but Merlin's cheeks are red from something else entirely, because more than anything, he just really wants to touch himself. He wants _Arthur_ to touch him, but he can't, so he won't, won't give in, won't let it take over him like he's -

\- lost his damn mind somewhere along the way, between Arthur holding him down on the desk with his right hand firm on his chest with three of his fingers curled inside of him, thrusting and twisting and rubbing up against _that spot_ , and him finally pulling his hand free to replace it with something so much larger, something wonderful that fingers can never really fully prepare you for and every time is perfect, brilliant, and this time was no different.

" _Fuck_ , Arthur," Merlin gasped, back arching against the unyielding wood of the desk as Arthur sank into him. "Fuck, God, _more_ , damn you -"

"Shh," Arthur murmured, nearly folding Merlin in two as he bent down to kiss him once, then swiped his thumb across his lower lip and slip it into Merlin's mouth. It was all Merlin could do to suck on the digit to hold back his moans as Arthur started moving, rolling his hips deeper and deeper until Merlin was certain he was full to bursting. When his thrusts turned harder, _faster_ , he couldn't hold it in any longer and threw his head back with a loud gasp that seemed to echo across the classroom, bouncing along the very same chairs he'd sat in earlier in the day with his mates, working on a group review he couldn't even recall anymore.

Couldn't focus on much of anything but the biting edge of the desk in the small of his back and _Arthur_ , Arthur everywhere, in him and around him and breathing heavily in time with each of Merlin's broken cries of pleasure and just the right amount of pain. Seconds before Merlin knew Arthur was going to come from the way he lost his rhythm and gripped just this side of too tightly on Merlin's hips, Arthur surged forward to kiss him again - then pulled out abruptly, spilling all over Merlin's unspent cock. Merlin _groaned_ at the sight of the mess, unbelievably turned on and ready to beg for it if he had to, all it would've taken was just one touch, just a little bit -

\- He exhales a soft gasp and lowers his head to one of his hands, covering his eyes and _trembling_ -

\- as Arthur smeared his come all over Merlin's length, slicking it up and making him jerk against his hand, desperate for more, ' _so close, Arthur, fucking Hell_ ,' but the bastard fucking _stopped_. Merlin propped himself up on his elbows, fully prepared to go off on the arse, but choked on his breath when he saw Arthur bend over to _lick his own come from Merlin's cock_. Fuck, if that wasn't almost enough to tip him over the edge then and there, but then Arthur wrapped his lips around the head and sucked down his length, and Merlin could feel some of Arthur's come trickling down to his balls.

He cried out. 

_Loudly_ , and if it hadn't been already well past school hours, they both likely would've been sitting in the back of a police car in that moment. But Merlin couldn't bring himself to give a single fuck, too caught up in being brought off by Arthur's gorgeous, perfect, _hot_ mouth. Everything else from the day, all the stupid teenage bullshit that Merlin had grown out of years before all of his classmates, all of it melted away underneath Arthur's tongue until there was nothing left but Merlin's ruined voice and Arthur's golden head bobbing up and down, swallowing around Merlin's prick until he finally came with Arthur's name on his lips.

Arthur stood to look down at Merlin, flushed and fucked and broken down to all the little pieces that had his name written all over them, and Merlin watched his throat as he swallowed them both. The post-orgasmic warmth in Merlin's belly rose up to constrict in his chest, and he pushed himself to sit up, legs dangling over the edge just as they had been when he watched Arthur clean, to reach a shaky hand out to him. Arthur let him touch his face, brush across his brows, follow the clean-shaven line of his jaw, trace the bright red swelling of his lips. He let Merlin worship him as the perfect escape that he was, is, always is, and followed Merlin's beckoning when he slipped his hand into his hair and pulled him down into a kiss, whispering ' _I love you_ ' to an empty classroom.

Merlin sees Arthur's hand press flat against the desk, a sweet caress meant for him, only him, and he buries his head in his arms atop his own desk as he comes in his pants without ever having touched himself. A bell goes off to signal the end of the exam as well as the class, and the students around him all groan as they pack up their things and shuffle to turn in their tests, leaving their fates to whatever benevolent gods are meant to oversee maths class. Most of them file out right away, but a couple of them linger and come over to Merlin's desk.

"Merlin?" one of them - Michael, a good friend from a few other courses - asks, placing his hand on Merlin's shoulder. He tries not to startle at the contact when he sits up to look at them, face flushed and eyes red. "You all right, mate?"

"Yeah," Merlin croaks around a constricted throat, "Yeah, just. Did rubbish on this one, think I'munna ask for a retake."

"Yeesh," he says sympathetically, giving his shoulder a comforting squeeze before letting go. "Good luck with that, ey?"

Merlin glances to where Arthur is still seated at his desk, straightening out the exam books, and their eyes meet for one brief second - long enough for Arthur to lick his lips unconsciously. 

"Thanks," he says quietly long after they've already left the classroom. "I think I'm gonna need it."

**Author's Note:**

> Anyone taking bets on how Merlin made up the test?


End file.
